


One Condition

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Female Scott McCall, Female Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently not even my werewolf form can forget my big fat crush on you since I keep waking up naked in your yard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Condition

**Author's Note:**

> Rated JUST IN CASE. You never can be safe with this stuff.

Stiles slams her notebook down on the table in front of Matt and stares down at him threateningly, “You got pictures of Friday night’s game, didn’t you? _Tell me you got pictures_.”

Matt glances up at her and smiles, “And what if I did? Are you telling me that they would be of… value, to you?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe I would give them to you.”

Stiles smirks, “Okay.”

“For a _cost_.”

“Don’t get gross,” Stiles says, making a sour face and holding out her coffee over his camera, “You got pictures, right?”

“Pictures neither of us will be able to see if you pour hot coffee all over my thousand dollar camera.”

“Well, if I have to take you down with me…”

Matt rolls his eyes finally and reaches out to take the SD card from the camera, “Fine, fine, okay. Here.”

“You got pictures of Scott from the game?” Stiles presses, her eyes practically gleaming as she snatches the card from him.

“Yeah, I got pictures.”

“Good,” Stiles pats his head and runs off to where her bag is on the table in the far corner, yanking the laptop out of it and turning the screen on. She practically jams the card in and taps her foot impatiently as she waits for things to start moving along.

It takes some pilfering through the thousands upon thousands of pictures, but Stiles finally manages to find the pictures taken from Friday night’s lacrosse game. But as she scrolls through them, she becomes more and more enraged.

Finally she rips it out, marching back over to Matt and slamming down the card, “What is this bull shit?”

Matt looks at her in confusion, “Uh… it’s Friday night’s pictures?”

“Sure, if you count the **bright gleaming lights** on every picture of Scott. What the hell is wrong with your broken camera?”

“Lights?” Matt asks in confusion. He puts the card in the camera to look at the pictures and Stiles crosses her arms, waiting for a proper response, “I didn’t check while I was taking them…”

“No shit, otherwise you might have noticed that there was something wrong with your camera.”

Matt stands up finally, “Nothing was wrong with my camera. As you can see, the pictures are fine most of the time.”

“Yeah, until they land on what I wanted pictures of.”

“Scott?” Matt asks and smiles, “Jealous, Stiles?”

“Not jealous,” Stiles says in a clipped tone, “Thanks for being the most useless photographer. Peter Parker was able to pull off getting pictures of himself as Spiderman, but you can’t even get pictures of hot female lacrosse players.”

“Don’t blame the glares on me, I was just-”

“Coming up with a horrible excuse as to why you suck at photography,” Stiles responds and shoves Matt out of her way before stomping out of the library to hunt down Scott McCall.

She finds her, of course, hanging out by her locker and talking to Lydia Martin. Stiles all but shoves her way in between the two, “Scott-”

“Oh, look, it’s that nerdy girl that writes for the school paper.”

Stiles rolls her eyes, but doesn’t respond, “I want an interview.”

Scott blinks and stammers out a response, “An in-interview? An interview ab-about what?”

“Friday night’s game.”

Scott turns to her locker, stuffing her face in it to look for something, “I don’t know, I have a lot of work to do, classes to get to-

“Don’t we all,” Stiles says, narrowing her eyes, “I’ll give you a ‘get out of jail free’ card, come on.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like classes-”

“No one on the planet likes classes, Scott,” Stiles responds as she watches the other girl’s back, “Interview, library, right after the first bell.”

“But I have practice first period.”

“Scott,” Stiles raises her voice, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. And, from the look of Friday night’s game, I’d say practice is something you can put off.”

Scott finally pulls her head out of the locker and sighs, leaning against it and staring at Stiles, “Okay, fine. I’ll do the interview-”

“Of course you will-”

“On one condition.”

Stiles stops and raises a brow, “One… condition?”

“One condition,” Scott confirms.

Lydia finally sighs in annoyance and walks off, strutting down the hall and clearing a path through the students.

Stiles frowns, “It’s an interview, Scott. Interviews don’t exactly come with ‘conditions’. It’s the school newspaper, not the New York Times or some Gossip magazine.”

“Just one condition, come on. What have you got to lose?”

Stiles crosses her arms and nods, “Okay, what’s your condition?”

The way Scott scrutinizes her for the next moment is frustrating, but eventually she just smiles at Stiles in that unusually kind way and requests: “Tell me what your favorite color is.”

Stiles blanches in confusion, blinking at Scott and then she clears her throat, “What kind of a condition is that?”

“I wanna know.”

Stiles narrows her eyes, “You want to know what **my** favorite color is?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Be-because I wanna know.”

Stiles purses her lips as the bell rings sharply and she notices how Scott winces at it, “Blue,” she answers, seeing the lacrosse player go from grimacing in pain to completely beaming.

“Blue?”

Stiles nods and then she realizes what’s happening. Or, at least she thinks she does. It’s a little strange for her to even consider as a possibility, but she can’t think of any other reason why Scott would want to know, and why the other girl is looking at her the way she’s looking at her. Scott must be planning some kind of horrible, evil prank to pull on her with the other jocks.

“Yeah, it’s blue okay. Stop gawking. I want my interview.”

“Oh, right, right. The interview, listen, about that-”

“You gave me your condition! You agreed.”

“I really need to get to class, Stiles.”

Stiles points her finger out and jams Scott in the chest, “Library, **now**. Or so help me, Scott McCall, I will ruin your life.”

Scott pales at the threat and nods numbly, turning and walking, Stiles following quickly behind her.

* * *

“So, what kind of special things are you doing to prepare for games?”

Scott smiles as she leans on her hand, staring at Stiles for a moment before shrugging, “Special things? I… I work out right after I wake up. I do crunches and push ups. I even started doing yoga and stuff-”

“Diet?”

“I eat breakfast?”

Stiles doesn’t respond for a long time before finally saying, “Anything _else_?”

Scott just grins wider and shakes her head, “Nothing else, really. Oh! I volunteer at an animal hospital. And I go running sometimes.”

“Drugs?”

Scott blinks, unable to understand why Stiles would ask such a thing, “Drugs? You mean like… like Advil? I take Advil sometimes when I get headaches-”

“Steroids?”

“Steroids?”

“Answer the question, Scott.”

“I would never do steroids.”

Stiles starts biting the end of her pencil and Scott’s eyes droop down to watch her teeth and lips, her entire body heating as she stares.

“I somehow doubt that,” Stiles accuses her, “I watched Friday night’s game, Scott. There’s no way anyone would be able to do what you did; especially considering you have **asthma**. Yeah, I know about that. It’s my job to know.”

“You write for a highschool paper, that’s not exactly a job.”

“And I’m onto you.”

Scott feels her stomach tighten as Stiles stands up and leans over the table, her hands pressed to the surface of it, “O-o-onto me? Onto me for what? I have-haven’t done anything.”

Stiles takes up her notebook, “I’m onto you, McCall.”

Scott watches her leave and sighs, dropping her head to the table. She spent the last thirty minutes talking to Stiles (or getting reamed by Stiles). It’s more than she’s ever done before, but she’s also never felt so terrified in her whole life, either. Talking to Stiles was somehow harder to do than facing the hunters and Allison Argent’s father, as well as Derek Hale. But, on the upside, she had learned something important.

Stiles’s favorite color was blue.

_Yeah, totally worth it._

* * *

The entire next week, Stiles spends her free time out on the bleachers, watching Scott during her afternoon practices. These days, there’s an unusual amount of people out watching them, so she at least manages to blend in with them. It’s the best time, she figures, to take a proper picture of the other girl and try and catch her in the act of doing something as crazy as what she pulled off on Friday night.

She learns quickly that pictures caught while using the flash never come out clear with Scott, but keeping it off seems to actually get proper shots. Why? She has no clue, but she plans to figure it out one way or another, no matter what she has to do to learn the truth.

The second game of the season goes almost the exact same way the first did, and this time Stiles manages to get a few shots that actually seem relevant. Though the flash isn’t on during it, and it’s night time so the pictures are kind of dark, but she figures it’s nothing a little photoshop can’t help.

She waits outside the girl’s locker, hands in her pockets as each of the team members come out, some of them throwing her looks and she rolls her eyes at them until finally Scott comes out.

“Hey,” Scott says in surprise, a towel swung over her shoulder and her duffle bag in her hand, “Let me guess-”

“Read ‘em and weep,” Stiles holds up her phone, showing a picture to Scott. She watches in complete and utter satisfaction as Scott’s entire body tenses, her eyes widening as she flips to the second picture, and then the third and fourth.

“Stiles-I can explain.”

“You don’t need to,” Stiles shrugs, “Yeah, I got you figured out. And I’m publishing it in next week’s paper, so… yeah, deal with it. I can see it now: ‘New Lacrosse Player Taking Illegal Drugs To Enhance Her Game?’.”

“Stiles, don’t do that.”

Stiles smiles victoriously and turns to leave, “You should’ve been straight with me, McCall, instead of lying and worming your way around things.”

“Don’t publish it,” Scott follows after her.

“Or what?” Stiles looks at Scott, “What kind of person are you, Scott? The kind of person to take responsibility for their own actions, or the kind of person that cheats to get their way?”

“I don’t cheat.”

“Don’t **lie to me**.”

Scott reaches out to grab her arm, “I’m not lying, Stiles.”

Stiles narrows her eyes as she looks down at the hand on her arm and then pulls away, “What are you gonna do? Threaten me to keep me quiet? Hurt me?”

“No, I-I would never do that-”

Stiles lifts her brows, “Then what?”

“Just don’t publish it, please,” Scott begs, and Stiles would admit that it pleases her quite a bit to see the other girl squirm instead of trying to worm herself out of something for once.

“Sorry, not sorry, dude,” Stiles says and continues on walking, leaving Scott behind, “Maybe next time, reconsider being honest about your clear drug abuse. God, the things teenagers get up to these days.”

Stiles makes it all the way out to the parking lot, reaching into her jacket pocket to get her keys, but sifting around in confusion when they’re not where she normally puts them. She feels her stomach twist, starts patting down her pants and then grabs her bag to look for them in there.

“Looking for these?”

Stiles starts to turn when she’s suddenly slammed back against the jeep, “Oh, ow,” she groans and looks at the tall man in front of her, the dark black hair, the pale skin and haunting blue eyes, “D-Derek… Hale?” she asks in confusion as the man holds the keys up to her face, “Yeah-yup, those are my ke-” she cuts off when he pushes against her, squeezing her forearm tightly and dropping her keys down between them.

For a second, she’s in fear for her life, maybe even her virginity or something, when the man starts to reach down between them, hand sliding into her pocket. Her cheeks flush, but then he takes up her cellphone and crushes it into pieces in his hand.

Stiles’s eyes widen, “Hey! That’s-”

“Leave Scott McCall alone.”

Stiles stops protesting, “Scott?” she narrows her eyes, “This is about Scott?”

“Whatever you have against him, you drop it tonight,” Derek says firmly.

“Buddy, I’m not dropping noth-” Stiles shouts in pain when the man grabs her wrist tightly again, “Ah-” her vision starts to white out when something slams into them suddenly, knocking Derek back towards the front of the jeep and Stiles doesn’t even stop to think.

She reaches down, snatching up her keys and unlocking the jeep, clambering in and peeling out of her parking spot. She doesn’t even think to look back, tears pricking her eyes as she steers, hands shaking violently.

Despite trying to calm herself down, running her fingers through her shaved hair, she still feels the anxiety mounting. Whatever is going on, she’s only sure of one thing. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little disappointed about it.

Apparently Scott isn’t the kind of person to take responsibility for her own actions. No, she had to sick her drug dealer onto Stiles, to scare her.

* * *

The next morning, Stiles wakes up and groans in pain when she realizes she’s been sleeping on her wrist where Derek Hale had grabbed her the night before. She pulls it out from under her, looking at the swollen, bruised skin, and winces. She stands stiffly and moves to the window to open it and breathe some life into her room, but then she stops when she sees something on the ground below.

She feels sick to her stomach at once, because she knows it’s a body. A very, very **naked** body. And it isn’t moving. She can only think that this has something to do with Derek Hale, that maybe this is another kind of warning to her or something.

Even though going down is the last thing she wants to do, Stiles turns and grabs the little five inch blade from her bedside drawer and runs down the stairs, out the back door in only pajama pants and a muscle shirt. It’s as cold as balls, but she runs over the wet grass and towards the body.

The closer she gets, the more she starts to realize that it isn’t just **any** body, it’s Scott McCall. The toned bronzed skin, the messy tangle of short hair. Stiles almost pukes, but jumps back instead when the girl sits up quickly and looks around.

“Holy fucking shit balls zombie ghost!” Stiles screams, falling back on her ass, holding out the knife to try and defend herself.

Scott blinks sleepily and her eyes meet Stiles’s, then her cheeks heat, “Oh… no.”

Stiles starts panting and freaking out, her heels sliding on the grass as she tries to move back, “What-what the fuck are-are you doing on-in the back of… why are you out here? Why are you naked? How are you alive?”

Scott smiles nervously and sighs, “Would you believe me if I told you that I sleep walked?”

Stiles stops trying to get away, chuckling loudly and dropping the knife, “Uh… no? Not for a second.”

“Yeah, I thought that might be the case,” Scott says in defeat, reaching up to try and fix her hair, “Uhm… so, I’m really naked-”

“I noticed,” Stiles responds, trying to keep her gaze away from the large, ridiculously mouth-watering breasts just hanging out there for anyone to oggle. She also kind of hates herself when her eyes drop, just for a second, to the soft-looking black patch of hair between her legs.

Scott glances down and tries to cover herself a little.

“Sorry,” Stiles stands back up, turning away, “You want something to cover yourself with?”

“Anything would do.”

Stiles nods, “Just… get in the house before anyone else sees you. But boy, we are having a **long** talk about this.” She walks inside, hearing Scott following behind her and she doesn’t look back for a second, grabbing a change of clothes from her room and handing them to Scott without so much as a glance back. She waits until she feels the hand on her wrist and then she looks down in surprise, “What are you-”

Scott meets her eyes and then Stiles feels the sharp aching in her wrist start to ebb, “You’re in a lot of pain.”

Stiles looks down to their hands, sees the dark color of Scott’s veins and her eyes widen, “What-?”

“I’m taking some of it away,” Scott admits, “Is that better?”

“Uh… I guess?” Stiles takes her hand from Scott and moves to sit back on the bed, “Care to explain now?”

Scott sighs and sits on the bed as well, “I’m…” she seems to slump in defeat, “I’m a werewolf.”

Stiles lifts her brows, “A werewolf?”

“Yeah,” Scott presses her lips together, “That’s why I’m suddenly good at lacrosse. I have strength and speed, and I can smell and hear things from long distances-”

“And take pain away, apparently,” Stiles cuts in, “And you sometimes appear in other people’s backyards… completely naked.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“By… being naked in my backyard?”

Scott huffs in frustration, “Derek attacked you last night.”

“Well,” Stiles tilts her head, “I wouldn’t really call it attacking. He threatened me a little and broke my-wait, how did you even know about that?”

Scott lifts her brows, “I saved you?”

Stiles laughs, “You saved me? Uh, no, I ran for the hills, that’s what saved me.”

“Yeah, but I tackled him to get him away from you.”

Stiles stops and thinks back, remembers the thing slamming into her and how she skedaddled right afterwards, “That was you?”

Scott nods, “He was hurting you.”

“I thought you put him onto me, because of the pictures I took.”

“No!” Scott says in surprise, then lowers her voice, “No, no, I would never do that. I would never hurt you.”

Stiles watches her cheeks turn bright orange and she looks away, her voice softening.

“I would never hurt **you** , Stiles, never.”

Stiles blinks at the admission, “You wouldn’t..?” and then it starts to click in her head. Scott was outside, protecting her, “Wait… is Derek Hale a werewolf?”

Scott nods slowly, “Yeah, he was just trying to protect us. If you published those pictures in the school paper…”

“Oh!” Stiles says then, “Oh, shit. That’s why you were asking me not to. That’s why you’ve been skirting around this whole thing.”

“So, you actually believe me?” Scott asks, smiling slightly as she looks at Stiles, “You believe me when I say that I’m a werewolf?”

“Well, it explains a lot,” Stiles responds plainly, “You said super hearing, so that’s why the bell hurts you when it rings. Super strength and speed would explain lacrosse. And being a werewolf probably cured your asthma or whatever. Not to mention the two glares in the pictures taken with the flash on.”

“I guess so,” Scott seems to agree.

Stiles nods and then wets her lips, “It doesn’t really explain one thing to me, though.”

Scott lifts her brows, “What’s that?”

“Why did you ask what my favorite color was?” Stiles presses, “I know you’re a werewolf now, so I think I’ve got some leverage to blackmail with. What kind of prank are you planning to pull on me?”

“Prank?”

“Yeah, you know, with the jocks and stuff.”

Scott shakes her head, “No prank.”

Stiles narrows her eyes as she stares at Scott, “I’m not an idiot. It was a weird, random question that made no sense-”

“I asked because I wanted to know,” Scott says and shrugs, her eyes starting to droop and she turns, “You mind if I nap? I think I’ve only gotten a couple of hours sleep.”

“Uh, no, no, go ahead.” Stiles responds, getting up from the bed as Scott lays down. She watches the other girl plant her face against the pillows and roll up into her blankets. She’s never had another person in her bedroom before. And the fact that Scott’s wearing her clothes- _oh god_.

Like a cord finally snapping, Stiles realizes something she’s been very, very blind about.

Scott acting all bashful to her all the time, Scott asking her favorite color, staring at her, insisting that she would never hurt her, that she stayed outside her window to try and protect her from Derek all night-

* * *

Scott feels warm and at peace, calmed by the strong, overwhelming scent of her anchor finally wrapped all around her. All she can think of is how content she is, how warm and safe she feels, and then suddenly a bucket of ice-cold water slams over her and she jumps up from the bed, eyes wide and alert.

“What the Hell!”

“Get out of my fucking house!” Stiles shouts back, holding the empty bucket in her hands.

“Stiles?” Scott asks in confusion, not understanding where the anger of the other girl is coming from, but she can smell it coming off of her in waves.

“Get out!” Stiles shouts again, “Get out! Get out of my fucking bed! Get out of my room! Get. Out. Of. My. House!”

Scott moves from the bed, still really confused as Stiles shoves her out, “Okay, okay, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”

“Get out!”

Scott holds her hands up, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m going.” She hurriedly walks by the sheriff, who has just come in from his late night shift, looking at Scott in surprise as the soaking wet girl, dressed in his daughter’s clothes, bolts out of the front door of the house.

John sets the folded paper on the table as Stiles comes down after the other girl and he meets his daughter’s gaze, “Do I want to know?”

Stiles shakes her head vehemently, “No, no you don’t.”

“Why was she in your clothes?”

“You don’t want to know, dad.”

“Stiles,” John starts and frowns, “Do we need to have the talk?”

“Dad, I could tell you more about the talk than you could ever hope to tell me.”

* * *

Scott’s walk of shame is only made worse by her mom seeing her trying to sneak in through the window.

Melissa straightens up, looking at her daughter and groaning, “Where have you been?”

“Just… don’t ask, okay,” Scott says guiltily and climbs inside, still soaking to the bone, “Please don’t ask.”

Melissa looks at Scott properly and moves to her, cupping her cheeks, “Honey, have you been crying? What happened? Is everything okay?”

Scott shakes her heads and pulls away from her mom, “Just… made the stupidest mistake, I guess.”

Melissa nods in understanding, but tries to press again, “Was it a boy?”

“No,” Scott chuckles and wraps herself up in her blanket on the bed, feeling her mom lay down beside her and hug her, “Not exactly.” When her mom is silent, she finally continues, “It was a girl.”

“A g-” Melissa blinks at the admission and then she seems to understand, “I see. A _beautiful_ girl?”

Scott smiles sadly and nods, “Yeah.”

Melissa reaches up to pat Scott’s wet hair and kisses her head, “Do you love her?”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” Scott says, pressing her lips together, “I don’t even know what I did wrong. One moment, it feels like everything is perfect. She knows everything, she seems okay with it. I was sleeping in her bed, and then I’m being splashed with water and shoved out of her house.”

“You were sleeping with her?”

Scott blushes, “No, no! Not like that. No. It was completely innocent, I promise.”

“Is that why you’re wearing her clothes?”

Scott sighs and shakes her head, “Trust me, okay. We didn’t do anything.”

“Were you at least respectful?”

“Respectful?” Scott asks in confusion, turning to look at her mom, “What to you mean?”

Melissa smiles slightly at her daughter, “I know we’ve never really talked about it, but these things are delicate. You need to understand that it’s just as important to make her happy as it is to make yourself happy.”

Scott still doesn’t understand what her mom’s talking about, “I’m… not following you.”

Melissa chuckles, “See? This is why you’re confused as to why she dumped a bucket of water on you. Scott, relationship’s are a give and take. If she’s willing to go down on you, it’s nice to at least… extend the same kind of courtesy.”

“Oh **God** , mom!” Scott shouts, “We didn’t have sex or anything. Oh God. It wasn’t like that at all.”

Scott spends the next hour or so trying to explain the entire situation to her mom, but eventually she ends up passing out. She’s exhausted, she spent most of the night fighting with Derek, then the whole fiasco with Stiles, walking home. All she can think of is sleep.

When she wakes back up it’s to Stiles’s scent, just as strong as ever. She finds herself smiling, reaching down to take the shirt off and press it to her face. Even though she’d had a bucket of water dumped all over her, Stiles’s scent was still overwhelming on the clothes. It was that same spicy chai and autumn leaves scent that she had grown to love ever since she had received the bite.

Scott starts to shift against the bed, against the change of pajama pants that were also Stiles’s. She could smell their scents starting to mix when a voice cleared and she turned over quickly, sitting up and groaning in annoyance when she sees Derek sitting in the seat just by her bed.

“Oh, what the Hell?” she complains, “What do you want?”

Derek narrows his brows at her and stands up, “You know that she’s a threat, right?”

“Who?”

“Stiles,” Derek responds, pressing his lips together.

“Stiles isn’t a threat to anyone.”

“You stopped me from warning her, and then you angered her, she’s more a threat now than anything else,” Derek moves to her, leaning over the mattress, his eyes fixed on her’s, “And you need to fix it.”

“Me?” Scott manages out, blushing.

Derek nods tightly, “She’s your anchor.”

“So?”

“Fix it.”

“How?”

“ **Fix it** ,” Derek repeats as he leaves out of the window, “Or I will.”

Scott groans and drops back on the bed, staring up at her ceiling and scrabbling her fingers through her hair, “Easier said than done.”

* * *

Stiles leads the way through the library, pointedly trying to ignore Scott.

“Why a bucket of water?”

“Because it felt good?”

Scott frowns at the clipped response as she follows after Stiles, “No, I mean why in general.”

“Next time, learn to ask a properly phrased question.”

“Why did you dump a bucket of water on me?”

Stiles tilts her head as she stuffs the book onto the shelf, “Hmm, because it felt good.”

Scott stops Stiles from walking past her and stares into her eyes, their noses just a breath from one another, “But I mean why did you do it? What did I do wrong? I thought things were okay between us.”

“They were,” Stiles agrees, “Until I realized the real reason why you’ve been acting this way to me.”

Scott feels her stomach twist, “The… real reason?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting this way,” Stiles elaborates, “Why you wanna know things, why you were outside my window. Just… in case you didn’t notice, I’m not an idiot, I know when I’m being duped.”

“Duped?”

“By you, and your jock friends.”

Scott’s face scrunches up, “You think I’m playing some kind of joke on you?”

Stiles purses her lips at the look on Scott’s face and then nods, “Uhm, yeah? Why else would you be doing it?”

“Because I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met?” Scott guesses.

Stiles laughs loudly and turns her face from Scott, “Yeah, sure. That’s totally it,” she rolls her eyes and looks back at the serious expression on Scott’s face. Her stomach turns a little, “You-you’re a jock. And I’ve seen ‘She’s All That’, I know how this goes. You take the nerdiest girl in school and try to turn her into a bombshell and make her the highschool prom princess or whatever it’s called.”

Scott listens in confusion, frowning slowly as Stiles goes on.

“Like Carrie,” Stiles explains, “And then you pour pig’s blood all over her on prom night, or do whatever it is you can do to humiliate her and let her know that all this time she’s been fooled by you, a person that never really had feelings for her in the first place. You embarrass her in front of everyone.”

Scott swallows tightly and shakes her head, “I-I would never do that to you.”

Stiles feels her cheeks heat at how intense and serious Scott is, “Yeah? Well, your friends sure would. Jackson? Lydia?”

“Not my friends,” Scott says honestly, “Jackson is on the team, but she hates me. And Lydia is just dating Jackson because she’s a star lacrosse player, I’m not close to either of them.”

“They’d still do it.”

“But I wouldn’t,” Scott insists, her hand moving up to touch Stiles’s cheek, “You know what I am. You know something that I… I haven’t even told my mom about, or **anyone**. No one else knows, other than Derek. You know I’m a werewolf. You know _what_ I am, but you don’t really know _who_ I am.”

Stiles nods slightly, “I guess you could make that point-”

“I would never hurt you, Stiles,” Scott brushes her thumb under Stiles’s bottom lip, “You’re the only thing right now that keeps me human. You’re the only thing that makes it possible to control my strength when I’m on the field.”

“Me?” Stiles chuckles, “What do I do? I’m no one.”

“Maybe to you,” Scott says and shrugs, “But for me... whenever I need to focus, it’s always you. You’re always doing something, you always have a straw in your mouth, or you’re tapping your fingers together, or muttering under your breath. Everything you do, I focus on that and - sometimes on your scent, on how you smell - and it calms me.”

Stiles feels her cheeks start to heart, “M-m-m-my sc-scent?”

Scott smiles slightly, “I liked you before I was bitten. I wasn’t lying when I said I thought you were beautiful. Even after you starting shaving your head, even when you called me an idiot jock, just like the rest of them. I still thought you were so beautiful.”

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me blush,” Stiles says sarcastically.

“You’ve been blushing for a while now,” Scott responds and smirks, “You’re my anchor, Stiles. And whether you believe me or not, I wouldn’t do something like… like what you were trying to explain.” She leans in then, brushing their noses together and then kissing Stiles somewhat shortly. Her whole body lights up, and even though she can feel Stiles start to lean into it, she pulls back, “I’m gonna prove it to you.”

Stiles stares at Scott, a dazed expression on her face, “Yeah? How do you plan to do that?”

“I’m gonna stop pressuring you to believe me,” Scott pulls back from Stiles, “I wanna get to know you, but I know that you still don’t trust me. You probably don’t even like me. So I’m gonna leave you alone.”

“Scott-”

“It’s okay,” Scott holds her hand up, “It’s cool. My entire group of friends has been mean to you and bullied you since middle school. So I totally get why you’re cynical and skeptical, and why you don’t think I’m telling the truth. No hard feelings at all.” She smiles widely, “I’m just glad you know now.”

“Scott-”

Scott steps away and puts her hands in the pockets of her jacket, “Relax. You’re… everything anyone could ever want. So, just remember that, okay? You could have anyone you want, Stiles. You should. And I’m not stupid enough to think that’d be me.”

Stiles watches Scott go and her chest constricts. Scott’s right about one thing. At least the other girl doesn’t just automatically assume that the feelings are reciprocated.

“You act like we’re talking about settling down, getting married, and having kids.”

Scott stops at the end of the bookshelf and looks back at Stiles, “What?”

Stiles chuckles and reaches out for Scott’s arm, “Okay, so maybe I could have anyone. But let’s be a little realistic, dude. We’re teenagers. We’re sixteen years old. We’re not exactly in it for the long haul, are we?”

“I guess not,” Scott says, frowning slightly in confusion.

“Relax, not everything is ‘end of the world’.”

“Not today,” Scott responds and Stiles feels like she might actually mean that.

Stiles rolls her eyes, “See? That’s what I’m talking about, that attitude right there. It’s all ‘end of the world’ and finality, and acting like we need to be end game and stuff. I’m the ‘cynical and skeptical’ one, and I’m the one that wants to do like… whatever, if you’re up for it.”

Scott blinks, “Whatever entails..?”

“Literally ‘whatever’,” Stiles says and wets her lips, “Like, yeah, I don’t think you’re in this to win it. But I think it’d be okay if we, you know, kept it completely quiet and secret and never told anyone. And any fooling around happened on my terms and at my house so that I know that you’re not recording me.”

Scott lifts her brows, “You really think I’d record you?”

“I don’t know, okay? I’m… really bitter and stuff and I have serious issues.”

“And you still wanna try to do things?”

Stiles shrugs, “Well, if you disagree, I know the truth. And if you agree, I keep my power, because we agree to keep it quiet. You’re choice.”

“What’s the truth, if I disagree?”

“That you disagree on my terms because you wanted to get in on this so you could humiliate me in front of everyone,” Stiles tilts her head, “I mean, either way I win. So it’s a win win.”

Scott nods in understanding, “Okay. So let me make sure I understand this… we wouldn’t be together. We would just be… what?”

“Making out and stuff?”

“So you could just go out with whoever you wanted in public, and I’d just have to watch?”

Stiles lifts a brow at how hurt and concerned Scott looks, “Uhm, we can agree **not** to do that. I’ve never had a proposition before, so it’s not like something I get… ever.”

“What if you did?”

“What if I did?” Stiles asks and sighs, trying to consider it, “Then… I’d just say I’m not interested. Because… I mean, really I’m not. I have plenty of school work and other things. This - you and me - would just be like fun on the side. So yeah.”

Scott’s brows tighten a little, “So you’d say ‘no’?”

“I’d say ‘no’.”

“So we’d be dating, but like in secret.”

“No,” Stiles insists firmly, “No dating, no girlfriends, no presents or gifts, no Valentine’s Day or any of that bull shit. I just mean… not even friends. Stop, why are you smiling?”

“You’re so paranoid,” Scott says and chuckles, “You don’t even like me, but you wanna make out with me and stuff.”

“I mean, I definitely wouldn’t mind making out. So is that a yes? You’ll agree to keep it quiet? Because I **could** take this business elsewhere.” She really couldn’t, but she didn’t _need_ to fool around with Scott.

“Yeah, I want to,” Scott responds confidently, “On your terms, whenever you want.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

Stiles nods, feeling a little more comforted by the fact that she agreed, “Okay, well at least now I’m not **completely** sure you’re trying to prank me. Just… like ninety-five percent sure.”

* * *

Even though Scott wants to really be with Stiles, more than anything in the world, as an actual, legitimate couple, she agrees to the making out for a few reasons.

Yes, she’s made out in the past with a couple of different people (namely Allison and Lydia - even lost her virginity with the former), but things with Stiles would be very different, and she needs something good in her life.

With the way things are in her life currently, a constant mess of supernatural things trying to kill her or her friends, the idea of having her anchor to fool around with and act like actual teenagers sounds nice. And while she wants them to be a couple, the idea of keeping it quiet and simple is also nice. Her and Allison were practically starcrossed, and very serious, so maybe she needs something lighter than that.

That, and the idea of leaving her there in the library to go off and be alone just… seemed really lonely. So she’s weak, she hasn’t been allowed to be weak since this whole thing started.

Another reason was that Stiles had a good point. If she said ‘no’, it did seem suspicious. It made her look bad, and she didn’t want the other girl to be even more skeptical of her than she already was. So saying ‘yes’ at least let her believe in Scott a slight bit more.

And then there was the last and final reason: Scott hoped that this would possibly actually lead to something more. That Stiles would grow towards her.

It’s a long shot, maybe even impossible, but she has to try.

Even with this agreement, though, the first time they even kiss after Scott’s stupid chaste kiss isn’t until almost two **weeks** later. It’s agonizing, knowing that she could if she really wanted to, but holding herself back because Stiles wants to keep it quiet and she isn’t able to even sneak over because the first rule was that it was on Stiles’s terms.

Yes, she tried to sneak over the night of, but Stiles wouldn’t let her in and told her to go home.

Scott understood though, or she thought she had a general idea. Stiles was trying to make sure that Scott could play by the rules, that she understood who the alpha was. And the alpha was Stiles. And the alpha was the one calling the shots.

It still didn’t stop Scott from sneaking out during the full moon to go and see her. When her full wolf form had to bring her over to Stiles’s house in some desperate attempt to feel anchored down. Every full moon since her changing, she was always drawn to Stiles’s backyard, curling up under the window (sometimes naked).

Stiles gets onto her about it in the morning, but doesn’t hold it against her when she explains why it happened.

“What does being an anchor really mean, though?”

Scott shrugs, “I kind of explained it the best I could. You just… you keep me calm.”

“And that makes me your anchor?”

“Derek explained it as something that can keep me grounded when I’m completely lost,” Scott says as she curls under Stiles’s blanket for warmth, “That’s always you. Since the first time.”

“The first time?”

Scott nods, “I was on a stupid date with Allison, at that party. It was the first week I was even bitten, but it was also a full moon, and I tried to go out with her.”

“And you shifted?” Stiles presses curiously, “At the party?”

“Almost,” Scott continues, “I went out to the front, to my car. You were inside with some of your friends, talking about a call your dad got about some girl that died in the forest.”

“Oh, Laura Hale,” Stiles nods, “I remember that.”

“You kept tapping your drink. You had a racing heart, and sometimes I would focus on you before that,” Scott tries to cover as much as she can, “I don’t know. I focused on you because I already liked you. And your voice kept me calm, unlike Allison. She always seemed to make it worse.”

Stiles smiles slowly, “And I stopped you from turning?”

Scott shakes her head, “No, I still turned. But I atleast had the willpower to not turn at the party. I just went home and stayed in my room… until I went out to your house.”

“You went to my house?”

“Every full moon.”

Stiles blinks, “You come here every full moon?”

“I listen to your heartbeats, or if you’re up, I listen to you typing on your computer.”

Stiles blushes then, “Oh my God, you haven’t heard me d-d-doing _other_ things, have you?”

“Other things?”

“Like… _getting off_.”

“Oh,” Scott shakes her head, “It hasn’t happened yet, no. I mean, two of the three times you were playing something on your computer-”

“Warcraft,” Stiles concludes.

“And the other time you were just… just sleeping.”

Scott can hear her heart rate relax a little and she smiles, “I normally fall asleep pretty quickly, it’s not like I stay up all night.”

“See, I don’t mind that so much,” Stiles says and lays down beside her, “Doesn’t sound so bad when you’re just listening to me healing ICC.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Scott responds and Stiles chuckles, “But… it’s been a couple weeks, can we make out now?”

“No.”

“Stiles-”

“On my terms, and this isn’t my terms,” Stiles responds, “You’re the one that snuck over to my house on the night of the full moon. That’s not my terms at all.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Scott agrees easily, “Can I at least get… one thing?”

“One thing,” Stiles seems to agree, “As long as I deem it small enough.”

Scott wets her lips, “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Stiles tilts her head, considering it before she narrows her eyes, “What kind of kiss?”

“A real kiss,” Scott tries to explain, “On the lips, full on, like… not the way it was before.”

“Chaste.”

“What’s that?”

“Like a chaste kiss,” Stiles says, “That was how you kissed me before. Kind of like how you kiss a friend or a family member.”

“Yeah, not like that.”

Stiles nods then, “Okay, **you** can kiss me in a not so ‘chaste’ way,” she agrees, “Just know that it won’t lead to anything else.”

Scott swallows nervously and shifts the covers away, moving to sit up on her elbow as she stares into Stiles’s eyes, “I know,” she nods, “Just a kiss.” Despite asking for it, and wanting it, she still waits. She stares into those honey-colored eyes for a moment longer, then reaches out to cup her cheek and leans in to kiss her.

It’s like everything she’s ever wanted. To be able to smell Stiles, to kiss her, to have her soft lips against her, to breathe her in. It’s all too much and not enough. Scott parts her lips, opening her mouth slightly, but then she’s being pushed back and Stiles is… climbing on top of her. She starts to object, but doesn’t when the other girl’s hands are yanking the blanket completely out of the way.

“Stiles-” she mutters out, but Stiles is straddling her lap, kissing her back in an excited, breathless, eager way that Scott wasn’t actually expecting.

It doesn’t last.

It’s there and then it isn’t.

Stiles moves back off of her and lets out a hot breath, “Yeah, that was… that was good.”

Scott groans weakly, but she doesn’t protest. She just clenches her legs together and enjoys the burn a little as she stares at Stiles, “Yeah,” she agrees, smiling.

Stiles looks at her and blinks, “Your… your eyes are like… blood red.”

“Oh, sorry,” Scott squeezes her eyes shut, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, don’t,” Scott feels the bed shift as Stiles gets closer to her, “I wanna see them.”

Scott tentatively opens her eyes to look at Stiles, her eyes still glowing, “You wanna see my eyes?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says slowly in awe, her gaze focused on Scott as she reaches up to touch her cheek, “They’re… so beautiful.”

Scott smiles widely, “You don’t mind them?”

Stiles shakes her head, “No. Are all werewolf’s eyes able to do that?”

“Uhm, yeah, kind of,” Scott responds, “Some are yellow, some are blue. Derek’s. His are blue. Mine used to be yellow.”

“What does it mean when they change to red?” Scott hears Stiles’s heart start racing, “Does it mean you killed someone? Di-did you-”

“No,” Scott says before she can start freaking out, “Red means you’re an alpha.”

Stiles stills in surprise, “You’re… you’re an alpha?”

Scott nods and smirks, “Yeah.”

She huffs then, “You **would** be an alpha. All the jocks get the cool shit.”

Stiles starts to get off the bed and Scott just chuckles and watches her, “It wasn’t easy. And that kind of thing… it comes at a cost. I almost died.”

“You almost died when you became an alpha?”

Scott nods when Stiles looks back at her.

“Well,” Stiles leans over, “I think that deserves at **least** one more kiss.”


End file.
